


Sandburg Revisited

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, Episode Related: The Sentinel: by Blair Sandburg, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim sees a chance for a new beginning with Blair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sandburg Revisited

## Sandburg Revisited

JC

* * *

The Police Academy changed him. 

But that wasn't the first time that he'd changed.  He had gone through so many changes, over the years, since he had first taken up residence in my life.  Changes that went bone deep and changes that lingered on the surface.  Changes that I noticed all the time, like in his attitude, or his outlook.  Changes that would hit me every once in a while, like how much he'd filled out, or how his face didn't seem as... soft. 

He'd grown.  Grown up. 

Trailing through the muck and mire of police work had a lot to do with it, I'm sure.  Not to mention trailing in the wake of a man who seemed to have issues... whether it was out of control senses, or bottled up emotions.  That man being me, of course.  And throw in dying and coming back (literally giving up his life), sacrificing his life's work... (really more like giving up his life a _second_ time), and it's no wonder he's changed.  Change is to be expected. 

But underneath there was also just that growing up thing.  A man turning 30.  Growing into his age.  Maturing.  And, for some reason, that I _hadn't_ expected.  This kid, Blair Sandburg, had showed up and turned my life upside down, turned it _around_ , settling in like he'd never leave, and we were so close that I hadn't realized that _that_ person wasn't really around anymore. 

I watched him give that press conference and there was this _man_ standing there, saying things in a broken voice, and I realized that I had sort of missed the transition.  Missed some changes. 

Missed some _chances_. 

But there is such a thing as getting a second chance.  And, luckily for me, third, fourth, and _fifth_ chances, too.  The Police Academy gave me that because I noticed that it had changed him. 

Or rather, getting _out_ of the Academy had changed him. 

For me, in a way, it actually seemed to change him back. 

* * *

It was Friday night.  Not too late.  Just around dinnertime, though we hadn't gotten _around_ to dinner yet.  He walked out of the shower, and it hit me. 

He had been excited all week, because Monday would be the first day of him 'officially' being my partner.  This time he'd be riding beside me with a badge in his pocket and a gun on his person, and he had been practically bursting with anticipation about it.  We had never talked about how he felt about carrying a gun, or carrying a badge either, for that matter.  I know he had issues on both counts, but he had come to terms with them on his own, not sharing the process with me.  All he wanted from me was to know if I _really_ wanted him to be my partner.  Straight out -- point blank.  With no hesitations or reservations.  And I had assured him that I did. 

When he popped into the station that day, I had been surprised.  He hadn't come around much at all since Simon first pitched the cop idea to him, and he bounced in unannounced, laughing and joking, teasing Simon about getting in his last 'You're not a cop, Sandburg'.  Even though he _was_ already a cop, just not quite officially my partner.  I think he wanted to make sure that he still had that slot in Major Crimes that he had gouged out for himself.  That coming back there, he was still coming back to friends.  The Academy hadn't exactly been a walk in the park for him.  He had shared _that_ with me, but had made me promise that I wouldn't _do_ anything about it. 

So, he walked into the station with this spirit about him that reminded me of his first days there.  On the verge of something new... not quite sure about it, but into it all the same. 

And then that night when he came out of the shower, I sat there looking at him, and I noticed it again. 

He had cut his hair when he entered the academy, an unexpected shock to me, but I got over it... eventually.  Since then, it had grown out a lot, almost back down to his shoulders.  And he had slimmed down some.  Because of the physical training, he had lost some of his previous bulk, and although he was more toned, more defined, he looked so much like Blair Sandburg, that goofy, cocky kid, that I was blown away. 

It hit me that there was my chance. 

That we were starting from a new beginning and maybe I could do things differently.  That I could start out being more receptive to his way of approaching things, that I wouldn't let certain moments slip by without saying 'thank you'.  Maybe I could even let him know that being his partner (on the job) wasn't all I wanted.  Or being his partner (in life) _was_ all I wanted.  Same difference, I guess. 

I have that damned press conference on tape.  I've lost count of how many times I've played it back.  Blair telling the world that he loves me, though they don't know that.  _I_ know it, and watching that tape makes my eyes water, and it makes my dick hard.  Because that's what _he_ does to me.  Because Blair-the-kid grew up into Blair-the-man, and I've loved him for a long time, and been _in_ love with him for what _seems_ like a long time, but I've missed so many chances to just lay it out there for the world to see.  Or even just for him to see. 

So, I was sitting on the couch watching him head towards his room, fresh from the shower, wearing only a towel.  He hadn't washed his hair, and it was wild from its battle with the bathroom's humid atmosphere.  Blair-the-man, who had gone through so much, so much for _me_ , and come out the other side looking like this revisited version of that kid I met years ago. 

One more chance, Ellison. 

And I took it.  I owed it to him to lay it on the line just once.  To go all the way to the point where I would say that I loved him, and see what the chances were that we could move our relationship to a new level. 

"Hey, Sandburg.  Got a minute?" 

He looked at me, looked down at himself, back at me, and said, "Sure.  Give me a sec," turning back towards his room. 

We were talking emotional outpouring... I couldn't afford to give him a second.  "Wait... Just... um... come here for a minute." 

Giving a little shrug, he walked over and sat down next to me, holding his towel together with one hand.  "What's up?" 

And I drew a blank.  Nothing but the empty sound of dead air.  I noticed that one earring had been returned to its place, and the first thing that popped into my head was, "You're looking good.  Looking like your old self." 

He laughed then, though I don't think that he truly got what I meant.  "Yeah, well, I _feel_ like my old self.  I'm ready for this, man.  You know, everything happens for a reason.  Just because it doesn't happen the way you think it should doesn't have to _invalidate_ it, right?  I mean, I envisioned my life a certain way.  Then you came along and I revised that vision.  I thought it was like a cycle... that no matter how much I was progressively drawn into the world of being a cop, no matter how much I liked it, one day academia would reassert itself and I would progressively be drawn back into _that_ world.  But that was unrealistic.  Because I would have had to make that happen, it wasn't just going to happen on its own.  And, somehow, I wasn't really moving in that direction." 

I looked down at my hands, willing them to stay still.  "So you're okay with that?  Being a cop, being my partner?" 

"I think the question is are _you_ okay with it.  I'm waiting for it to sink in with you that I've traded cell phone batteries for bullets." 

I didn't answer that.  I hadn't told him, but there _had_ been some hesitation, a few reservations. 

"Jim, maybe this is where I'm supposed to be, this is what I'm supposed to be doing.  Because being part of your world is important.  Being _partners_ with you is important.  So instead of going in that circular path back to university life... my life has changed along a straight line.  Each step bringing me closer to where I am now." 

We had gotten way off track.  He was _still_ reassuring me, and _I_ was still not saying what needed to be said.  But I was too close to him, because I could feel my eyes stinging, and my dick stirring, and I was getting worried that if we ever did move to a new level it was going to be messy, what with my lack of control over my bodily functions. 

I jumped up and went to the kitchen, filling a pan of water to boil.  For what I didn't know, but it seemed a good place to start; it left me options, anyway.  There are a lot of things that start with boiling water... lots of things to offer him...  I slammed the pan down on the burner, jerking the heat up to high. 

"You don't have to be a cop to be in my life, Blair.  You mean more to me than that.  I mean, shit...  I love you, dammit."  I was facing away from him, and I was shaking; though my voice was steady. 

Suddenly, he was standing behind me, one strong hand in the middle of my back.  "Thanks, man.  I love you too.  But, I think that I'm actually a pretty good cop, and even if I don't do it forever, it's part of who I am in _my_ life, right now." 

My eyes were really wet, and my dick was really hard.  The Sandburg Effect.  I was determined not to cry, and determined not to come, even though the heat of his hand on my back was so strong, it was like he had reached straight through me, warming me from the balls up.  Amazing that I could even still speak. 

"You don't have to be a cop to be my _partner_." 

I turned around, and he was so close, and I loved him so much... 

"I...I...I--" 

...and words escaped me.  But then, I was kissing him and I was crying and I was coming in my pants and it was so sweet.  Until he walked away. 

He walked clear across the room before he turned around and looked at me.  All of my energy was focused on not falling flat on my face, and I couldn't tell if he was pissed, or hurt, or sad, or fucking amused.  His eyes were like lasers, his expression was so intense, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure it out. 

"Do you know what you're doing, Jim?"  From the sound of it, he was intensely pissed. 

"I love you."  And even to me that came off as pretty lame. 

"You love me."  He nodded his head a little.  "Cool.  No problem there.  But do you know what you're asking?  Have you considered what you're thinking about getting into, here?" 

I figured the wet spot on the front of my pants as a result from kissing him was a pretty good visual in that regard, but I answered anyway.  "I want you." 

"You want me."  He was nodding again.  "Do you, Jim?"  He dropped his towel, burying his feet in terry cloth, revealing himself in all his naked glory.  "Look at me, Jim.  Do you really want me?  Because this is what you'd be getting.  Do you even know what you're talking about?" 

And I hated the fact that he was still doing that.  Exposing himself for me, putting it all out there for me, when all I was doing was standing there with tear tracks, and come stains, and shaky knees, and a still surprisingly clear voice spouting out three word sentences.  I changed what I could of that.  "I'm _in_ love with you, Blair." 

"You're _in_ love with me.  You're...  Oh."  That nodding and repeating had been getting to me, but then he gave me a brief, small smile.  "Okay." 

Back to my eyes tearing up, and my dick filling out... and I sensed a major problem in the making.  Or either I was simply headed for a breakdown. 

He just calmly pointed in the direction of his room, and said, "I'm going to get dressed now," then motioned to a point past me, " and you might want to turn that off." 

My nose was so wide open and so full of Blair Sandburg that I hadn't even smelled it when the water had boiled out, scorching the bottom of one of my favorite pieces of cookware.  Quickly, I turned the stove off, dropped the pan in the sink, and ran cold water into it.  I grabbed some paper towels, dabbing at my eyes, and wiping between my legs, too much in shock to actually make a trip to the bathroom. 

I was staring at where the pan was still letting off steam when Blair came back.  He was wearing a pair of shorts, but no shirt, no socks, and my gaze wandered down to his feet -- it was a part of his body that I rarely got to see.  Then without any warning, an image of his cock materialized in my mind, courtesy of his earlier display.  I silently vowed that if I developed a crazy Sandburg foot fetish, I would just commit myself.  Save everyone else the trouble. 

He reached over and grabbed my hand.  "Hey Jim.  Gotta minute?"  Chuckling, he tugged on me.  "Come on.  Come lie down with me." 

I let him pull me out of the kitchen, and was surprised when he didn't lead me to the couch, but kept going until we were in his room.  He pushed me back and I was lying there on his rumpled covers, amidst his things, surrounded by Blairness.  And for a brief second I wished I had done that before, crept into his room, while he was out one day, and wallowed in how _Blair_ it felt in that room, on that bed.  He pulled off my pants, sticky underwear and all, and then, he was lying on top of me.  The real thing... and no fantasy had even come close.  I wanted to remain there, for the rest of my days, reveling in that feeling of loving and being loved... 

I had started to drift off, replaying the whole crazy evening in my head, enjoying how well it had turned out, how I was in love with him, and he was... 

My whole body went tense beneath him. 

He was... _Was_ he? 

He hadn't _said_ he was in love with me.  We were lying naked in each other's arms, and it all could be just that new Sandburg starting over with Jim Ellison who had a new problem.  No longer the Sentinel with out of control senses, but a cop with an inability to keep from leaking tears or semen at the drop of a hat.  And learning to use sensory dials had nothing on where him sprawling on me naked could lead. 

His finger stroked gently along my shoulder, and his voice was a deep rumble in my ear.  "Cool it, Ellison.  Don't start freaking out on me.  Second thoughts?" 

"No.  No... none.  You?"  I really wanted to know if he was having _first_ thoughts. 

"Relax, Jim.  I'm fine.  _We're_ fine.  Trust me, okay?  Lie here and just _trust_ me." 

So I relaxed and lay there, holding on, and trusted him. 

He deserved no less. 

He had been a great kid.  He had grown into a hell of a man. 

And I had decided not to miss any more chances. 

* * *

End Sandburg Revisited.

 


End file.
